Without Exception
by Kirasdream
Summary: JTHM--A college student searching for a purpose stumbles upon a young boy and a homicidal maniac who both impact her life for better and worse. It's M for strong language and implied violence. SPOILERS, and no pairings between OC and main character.
1. Chapter 1

"Hey kid, c'mere."

Anna turned her head towards the gruff voice. Just beyond the fence, parked by the sidewalk, was a white van with tinted windows, with **Bob's Plumbing Co.**stamped across. A bald man, who seemed wider than he was tall, leaned casually with his hands behind his back, his eye on a little boy in front of him with mousy black hair, clutching a teddy bear.

"I lahst mah dog, y'see." The man continued, appearing to be a little worried. "And ya look like a smart kid, so ya wanna help? I've go some candy in the van, if ya like a reward for ya services." The man winked at the kid, whose reaction Anna couldn't see, but the teddy bear in his arms trembled.

Anna glanced around. Where the heck are his parents? No one was rushing for the boy or whacking the man with a purse. And didn't this kid know to not talk to strangers? She pushed up from the swing and sprinted for the fence. "Hey kid! Get away from him!" She yelled. The boy turned his head, showing wide, terrified eyes, and the pork-like man froze, before clenching his heavy jaw.

"Hey, beat it." The man growled as Anna climbed over the fence. "This doesn't concern you."

"I'm his sister." She said confidently, shooting the kid a look to agree with her, who stared at her with the same deer-in-the-headlights-look.

The man scoffed. "Yah didn't come with 'im, and yah didn't say hello or nuthin to 'em when he came to play here."

He's been watching him for a while, then. Anna thought wearily.

"Besides, I'm 'is pops." The man continued, snapping his suspenders over his stained white shirt. "So git."

Anna raised her eyebrow. The kid was as skinny as a stick and the man appeared to gain weight just by thinking about food; they looked nothing like each other. What kind of idiot was he?

"Alright," Anna said, starting to play along with his game. It was just them in sight, and if she took and the kid and tried to make a break for it, she was worried that the man might have a weapon and would pursue them; she would have to stall for time. After all, this was playground, though it were nearing twilight, people will—eventually, hopefully—populate the presently deserted premises. "What's your name?" She asked the kid as she knelt next to him, who stared at her. "Tell me quietly." She looked back up at the man. "And if this is your son, what's his name?"

"None of yah business." The man took step towards the boy, who automatically hid behind Anna. "Er, ok, Max, git in the van."

A common name. She half expected Bob.

"It's Todd." The boy's voice was small and meek in her ear. "And he isn't my dad. I don't know who he is."

The man couldn't have heard Todd whispering in Anna's ear, so it was perhaps the disgusted look she gave him that caused him to say: "Ah, that's his middle name."

"His middle name is Tim?"

"Yah." The man nodded, looking relieved.

Anna stood up, ushering Todd to stay behind her. "That's not his name."

"What? E's lyin'." The man started to look a little panicked. "C'mon Max. And yeh," he shook and pudgy finger at Anna. "Yeh respect yehr elders. I'm his father, yeh hear, and if yeh don't—"

_He is probably unrelenting because he's already in trouble._ Anna thought wearily as the man blubbered on. _He wants to make sure there are no witnesses to what he's doing, i.e. Todd and I, so he might be a repeat offender. _She glanced at Todd. _Gotta be careful with 'Bob', otherwise Todd might get hurt as well._

"Ok, if you are his father,"—the man nodded vigorously—"why would your son lie about you being his father?"

"Because he's a spoiled brat!" The man was getting more irrational. "And if yeh don't—"

"How's this." She interrupted calmly, beginning to end the conversation. "Why don't I call the police, " She took out her cell phone, "and if they identify you as 'Max's' dad," she patted Todd's head, "the I'll go on my merry way."

The look of horror on the man's face was almost priceless. "About that—"

"Mr. Bob. We all know that you are not his dad." Anna said firmly, putting her phone back in her pocket. "We are just going to leave and pretend that this never happened, and no one has to get hurt." Of course she was lying, since that there was no way that she would allow someone like him loose on other little kids, but hopefully he was panicked enough to not discern that. He was slightly irrational already, and hopefully it would be for her advantage.

"No yeh ain't." The man growled, drawing to his full height and edging closer to them, suddenly appearing intimidating. "Do yah think I'm a dumbass? Both of yeh are going to git in the van."

"You're a repeat offender, aren't you?" Anna said coldly as she backed away slowly, Todd letting a squeak of horror while clutching her legs. "That's why you're persistent, because you don't want to be caught again."

Bob shrugged, his hand lifting for the door hand behind him. "Smart one. Well, yeah, if you havta to kn—AARRRGGHH!!!" He barely blinked to see Anna leaping forward and punching him the nose, flecks of blood on her drawn back fist. The man realized his nose was broken before he caught her fist in his palm and grabbed her other arm. She spat in his face while he simultaneously felt a sharp pain in his leg; the boy had his little teeth in his calf. He kicked the boy aside, who doubled over wheezing, and Anna retaliated and kneed the man in the groin.

"AAGGHH!!" The man stooped over, screaming. He felt his brain bang dangerously against his skull as her foot met his head, and he spiraled backward into the van, his head slamming against the white metal doors. All he could see was the gray white clouds above him, before his vision gradually faded into black.

Anna bent over, panting, eyeing the man cautiously. Todd, massaging his stomach, limped for his teddy bear that he threw aside for the fight.

"Ok Shmee, you were right." He muttered to his bear. "Is he dead?" He asked, staring at the girl with the dirty blonde hair.

She started, as if she just noticed him, and then winced as she peered at the man lying in a heap against his van from a safe distance. At first she thought he was—though she didn't intend to kill him—but was relieved when she saw him breathing. "No, he's not." She took out her phone and dialed a number. "We're going to have to stay here 'til the cops show up, since they might want to talk to you as well. Feel free to hide, though…"

"I'll stay here with you." Todd said, holding his bear closer to him.

She gave him a small smile, before her head rose in attention. "Ah, hello? Yes, a guy tired to kidnap a boy—Todd—what's your last name?---and tried to force us in his van; he's an employee of Bobs Plumbing Company I think, that's what the van says, unless he stole it…we're at South Central Playground, near the Concord and Tram intersection…a little bit of scrapes on us, not sure about the guy though, kinda knocked him unconscious…he threatened us so I fought him…"

_She seems like a nice lady._ Todd thought as Anna continued to tell the operator the situation. _Maybe she and Nny might get along…_

"And if the guy wakes up?...Ok, will do. Thanks. They dispatched an ambulance and the cops." She said aside to Todd. "They'll stay on the line, but if he starts to wake up, run to a safe place and call the police; I'll give you the phone." She whispered the last sentence, in case the man was faking it.

Todd nodded. "Ok."

Anna smiled again. "Thanks, by the way, for helping me, but next time make a run for it."

Todd smiled back. "Thank you for saving me."

Within several minutes, three vehicles arrived, their red and blue lights in the dim night as bright as strobe lights. Three cops emerged from two of the vehicles while paramedics from the ambulance wheeled out a stretcher. The cops interviewed Anna and Todd while the paramedics looked them over before whisking the man off into the stretcher. Once the cops obtained Todd's name—he didn't know his home phone number—they called his parents, who arrived forty-five minutes later after the ambulance had left with the man, looking annoyed rather than concerned while the police informed them of the situation, and then took Todd to their car, Todd looking back from the backseat of the car and waving with his bear Shmee to Anna, who waved back as his family's car drove away.

"Do you want to press charges?" One of the policemen asked as Anna watched Todd's car drive off.

Anna scoffed, shaking her head. "I attacked him. I'm more worried about _him_ pressing charges against _me_."

"Which he can do." The young brown-haired policeman said gravely as he escorted her to his car—he had offered her a ride home, which she had accepted. "The most damage you did was a broken nose and a concussion, but it was in self defense."

"Yet a woman can sue McDonalds because their coffee was too hot." Anna muttered as she climbed in the backseat of his car, smiling to herself when she saw the bars separating her and the policeman getting in the driver's seat, who smiled sympathetically.

"I'm sure there are sensible judges that will listen to you. I can recommend some good lawyers if the occasion arises." He said warmly as he started the car.

"Yes, because you have my number and know where I live already." She said, making the policeman chuckle. "Most likely the kid and I will have to show up to court, to be witnesses at least?"

"Afraid so." He glanced at her through his rear view mirror, beginning to drive.

Anna grimaced. "Great."

The policeman grinned. "Not fond of the court much?"

Anna sighed. "I'll do anything to get him back in jail." She said quietly. "Lord knows what he would've done…."

The policeman didn't say anything. Though she had suspected, it was best that he didn't tell her the numerous details when Bob Morton had been charged of being a sexual predator and a child molester twelve years ago. "Not pleasant things, m'am." He replied.

"Anna." She said, looking at him through the rear view mirror.

The policeman cocked his eyebrow at her. "Ms. Anna?"

"Just Anna, Officer Takeshi."

"Reilly, please. I'm still not used to being called that."

Within twenty minutes, Reilly the Policeman had pulled over to a sidewalk in the slightly shady part of the suburbs that led to the wide entrance to a relatively clean building of apartments. The few people that were in the street behind her looked appalled when she stepped out of the cop car, but relaxed when they saw that she and the policeman seemed to be on good terms, both wishing each other a good and safe night.

"Thanks for the ride." Anna said gratefully, casting a look at the people retreating away.

"No problem, Anna." He said good-naturedly. "You know my number." He said jokingly, and they both laughed. With one last wave, he drove away as Anna waved back to him.

Anna sighed and once his car was out of sight, she went for the building. The building itself was very open to the outside; all the apartments were on the sides, while the middle was a wide balcony for the front and the back. She went up a flight of stairs that was located in the back, greeting the view of a forest as the building's 'backyard', and trumped up to the fourth floor, sighing tiredly as she pulled out her keys from her back pocket as she crossed the landing to her door at the end. "What a night." She muttered, fumbling her keys in the mediocre lights provided above her.

"**Oh, it'll get better**." Whispered a voice in her ear.

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Whoo. It gets longer. I know there's still some things that aren't realistic/logical here, but oh well, and choppy as crap. Hope you enjoyed it!!!


	2. Chapter 2

If while reading something you notice something unusual, there's an explanation at the bottom.

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Before she could react, she was slammed against the door, her keys knocking out of her hand. Instinctively, she threw herself backward, and felt her body contact with a man's. Her weight and his unbalance led to their collapse on the floor, and Anna immediately hurled herself up and streaked for the stairs.

"**HELP!!**" She screamed, almost tripping three times as she flew down the stairs, trying to make as much racket as possible. What was going on? This was not the nicest part of the 'burbs, but nothing like this happened often. Did the man somehow escape from the ambulance and come back for revenge? Or was it like a horrible twist in a TV show, where the supposedly nice guy, aka Reilly, was the bad guy?

As she neared the exit that led to the back, wondering where her neighbors were, a dark figure landed in the entry from the upstairs balcony, his entire physique drenched in shadows. Anna slid to a stop, panting, eyeing the man. He was too skinny to be either Bob or Reilly. Hopefully all he wanted was money….

"What do you want?" Anna asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

The man grinned—a bright, reflective smile. Anna blinked and realized the man was not smiling, but held a knife in his hand by his face.

"If you don't want more struggle or death," the man said, stepping forward into the light. "You will come with me." He was very tall and very skinny, with combat boots and black clothing. He wasn't pale, but had a yellowish tint—or was it the light?—to his skin, and his black hair clashed yet matched with his dark clothes, completing an image of unstable sanity. He held the knife lower now, and this time he grinned, a malicious, scarred smile.

She wasn't going to question the deaths. She didn't want to know if that was the reason her neighbors weren't running out and beholding the scene. She backed away a little. "Put down the knife, then."

The man tossed the knife in his had, and flicked it at her. As a reflex of self-preservation, she screamed as she threw her arms over her head and fell in a crouch, when she heard the man laugh.

"God that works every time." He cackled as Anna looked up from under her arms; he still had the knife in his hand. Apparently, he only _pretended_ to throw it at her. "You're one of the smarter ones though; most just cover up their faces."

"I'm flattered." Anna said sarcastically as she straightened up wearily, her eye on the knife.

"Now, no more stupid requests and follow me." The man said, stepping to the side and holding his arms towards the exit in mock gentleman fashion. Anna hesitated, then walked slowly, trying to keep her legs from shaking and felt shadows creep from her head to feet once she stepped past him and outside.

"Excellent." She felt his grip on her arm—he was surprisingly strong. "Now we shall take our leave."

He started leading her to the woods, the dark trees swaying menacingly. She shuddered; the forest went on for miles. She glanced at him, and he smiled wider, more ecstatic.

"Don't worry; this isn't our final destination." He said in a fake reassuring voice. "We're just taking a short cut, a lovely stroll under the moonlight…" he turned to look at her, and suddenly, his eyes looked human. "I'll let your imagination run, because even _I'm_ not sure what I am going to do, but I'll give one piece of comfort." He looked at the forest, still half dragging her. "I am not like those filthy, sick excuses of things calling themselves human who take advantage of women. I do not find pleasure in that, disgusting pieces of shit…"

Anna didn't know what to say—let alone feel—but whispered, "Thank …you…?"

He swung his head back towards her, this time letting the forest's darkness sweep over them. The shadows highlighted his hollow eyes, making him seem more psychotic, an effect he used well. The human look in his eyes was gone. "Oh don't thank me. Just because I know what I'm not doing doesn't mean I know what I'll do. But I do have some ideas that I might enact that depending on how you behave, " he yanked her towards him, his nails digging in her arm, "will decide what your ultimate fate is."

Anna tried to pull away, to lessen his grip, but he held tighter. She winced with pain as her blood protested from the lack of circulation.

"Enjoy your blood while you can." He said quietly, before slightly un-tightening his hold on her.

Thoughts raced through her head as they trudged in the forest. She noticed that they weren't going towards the center, but rather stayed close to the edge of it; she could still see through the trees to civilization on the other side. He didn't force her to close her eyes either; in fact, he gave her some leeway, holding her hand (though with some winces) as she walked as far away as possible from him. Other than the frightened yet calculating expression on her face (that was her feelings, otherwise), if people met them in the woods, they would have thought that they _were_ taking a lovely stroll in the woods, enjoying the scenery and the moonlight.

Several times they met other moonlight 'strollers' along the edge of the forest, mainly couples (_Wonder what they were doing._ Anna found herself thinking sarcastically as one of the couples had hastily straightened up with shirts askew and jeans ruffled once they heard the sound of crunching leaves approaching) and chatted about the night to make the situation less awkward before the man and Anna 'unfortunately' had to go.

She was able to learn more about the man through the conversations; for one, the name he used to introduce himself was Johnny. He also knew her name, which startled her during the first conversation, and letting her know that this wasn't a random attack, which she thought at first was. In front of other people, he acted quite normal and less alarming, but still seemed to retain the aspects from the little she knew of him, with his sarcastic humor and expressing his disgust with anything sexual (which made the situations more uncomfortable sometimes). She also was able to discern—disturbingly—that he was confident in succeeding in his plans and that he was very intelligent. She felt that he was allowing her to see—instead of blindfolding her—for several reasons; one, since he kept close to the edge to the forest, where anyone could look out and see them, and encounters were seemingly common, and second, which her assumptions truly began, he was letting her see where they were going because he was confident that she wouldn't escape. Which meant that he knew in his mind that he wasn't going to be caught and let her know that indirectly, which had a numbing effect on her. But why not just take her out in the woods and kill her there, presuming that's what he was going to do? But if he knew her, then maybe the police would link him to her—perhaps he went to her college and saw her there and decided to kill her. Besides, the police would know his face if anything happened—if they found her body—since he had about eight witnesses from their encounters to associate him with her, but he wouldn't be found. Or maybe he _did_ want to be caught. She didn't know.

Her 'knowledge' didn't really help her; if anything, it made her more fearful. And then, going back to being seen with her, could help his case, were he a suspect. He did nothing directly, but during the conversations, she noticed his body language and the way he spoke; his hand—still holding hers—was gentle, and every once in a while he grinned at her, as if they had a secret together—_Yeah. _Anna thought grimly. _He's going to kill me._ —but that could be interpreted as a smile lovers shared. He was subtle, yet effective. As for her expressions during these stumble-upons, she acted according to what he told her to look: mildly interested, yet keeping her attention on him. Her first thought was to sabotage the situation, by looking scared or something to that effect, but he shot that down by threatening to kill the people she signaled to. She wasn't going to risk testing his bluff; she wanted to live, but she'd rather death than have someone else's on her conscious. This man—Johnny—was frighteningly good. With the panicky fear and anxiety already eating her, it was almost impossible for her to think logically. Between the occasional encounters, she asked him how he knew her name and why he was doing this. He just smiled maniacally and said: "I was randomly over near the apartments when I saw the policeman drop you off and I was in a bad mood anyway…"

Anna stiffened. "How long have you been following me?"

Johnny did his infamous toss of the head to her. "Me? Follow you? I just saw you today getting out of the police car and heard him call you Anna."

"So why did you choose me?" She asked, hoping her voice wasn't as high pitched as she thought it was.

"I told you; I'm in a bad mood." He leaned over to her. "You know how I said that your actions determine your fate? —Quite like fate." Anna nodded. "The worse the torture the more you keep asking stupid questions." His grin widened again.

Instead of becoming more alarmed, she became angry. "I bet you chose me because you know nothing about your victims, making your conscience quilt-free." She muttered. The prospect of her looming death was now more numb than scary, which was why she challenged him.

"It's true that I'd prefer not to know a single thing about my 'victims'—if you can call them that," he began, maintaining an infuriatingly cool composure, "but the crazed, shallow filled maggots scream at me anyway, screaming how they're this and that, they'll promise they'll change—" his human look was back, "—pathetic it takes death to help them realize that they _have_ to, so I find out about them anyway. So, why don't we get it over and done with?" He looked happy again. "Tell me everything that you'll be screeching about."

" 'I hate you,' 'burn in hell,' 'I hope you die for doing this to me,' 'go fuck yourself—oh wait, you have to because you can't get laid and thus you're mad and taking it out on us', the usual?" She said grimly.

"Bravo!" He inclined his head. "Excellent, though I thought you'd be a little more creative…"

She thought her last one had some merit, but "I'm more interested in knowing who and what my killer is than screaming about myself." She said in mock amusement.

"Well…" Johnny looked thoughtful. "My name is Johnny, but you can call me Nny. I'm in my twenties, main occupation is, well, a part time job in a music store, full time killing—actually I'm on a lull—idiots that deserve to die."

"So I deserve to die?" She snapped in outrage, considering how they just met.

"I don't know." He replied, continuing to look reflective. "And I don't care. I kill a random person every once in a while."

"How many people have you killed?" She increasingly felt sick.

"Erm, not sure, now that you mention it."

"Take a guess. How about three or four?"

"At least ten times that—"

"What?!" Anna stopped, having a major case of vertigo. "You're lying. What for?"

"I'm sure I killed for other purposes, but at the moment I need blood. For my wall." He added at the disgusted look on her face. "There's this…_thing_…behind my wall, and to keep it from getting out, I use blood to pacify it. Trouble is, it requires fresh blood, and I need enough to cover the wall."

Anna retched in response. Johnny slightly edged away, but waited for her to finish.

"And you haven't been caught?" She managed to say while kneeling down, her hair hanging in her face.

"Obviously." Johnny muttered. "I'm beginning to wonder that myself. I'm careful, but you'd think that I would've by now…"

"How do you know that you need blood?"

"It was on the wall when I moved in."

This just disturbed her more, and the sensation that another wave was forcing it's way up her throat distracted her from asking more questions.

After what felt like hours, they started heading closer to the edge of the woods, and eventually emerged into a dark cul-de-sac .

"Welcome to hell." Johnny said proudly. "Or rather, the gates of hell."

The neighborhood was sinister, and not because it was nearing midnight. As much as she could tell, the houses were dingy and near poverty stricken. Every other house or so on the cul-de-sac and the street beyond that they walked toward attempted to look clean, but the unkempt grass or broken shingles defeated the look. Some of the houses looked like ones that were devastated during a hurricane or even abandoned, were it not that a lamplight shown through the shattered windows.

"Do anything and they die too." Johnny said quietly as they went past, catching her trying to peer in and trying to get their attention.

"This your neighborhood?" Anna asked. Now she had thoughts of really wanting to escape without getting anyone else killed. If she tried to run, she was sure that he would catch up and kill her; that and he knew where she lived. Even if he were caught, she had a feeling that he'll somehow get out and kill her then. She felt herself shaking unwillingly, which absolutely delighted Johnny. "Oh good, it's sinking in." He said, and suddenly pulled her to a one-story house, with the number 777 on it. She didn't think about how ironic it was when they reached the door.

"And you have no regrets?" Her breath was becoming short. "About what you do?"

"I do." His admittance surprised her. "But it doesn't bother me until they're dead."

"Nny!!"

Johnny stopped and looked over his shoulder. Immediately, Anna felt adrenaline, and was about to take off running while he was diverted, but why did the voice sound so familiar?

She turned her head behind her as well, and there, standing in his Dino PJs and his teddy bear Shmee, was Todd.

"Go back to bed, Squee." Johnny said nonchantly.

"No." Todd replied looking at Anna.

"Johnny—" Anna hurriedly whispered. "Leave the kid alone. Do whatever you want with me, but _don't you dare touch this kid._ Todd," she said loudly, "I'm fine; it's ok. Go on ahead and go back to sleep."

"Don't hurt her Nny." Todd said pleadingly. "She's really nice—she beat that mean guy up for me—and Shmee likes her."

"What?!" Johnny let her go to look at her better, utter shock on his face."You _know_ him?" Anna asked Todd stunned, who nodded.

"He's nice to me cuz no one else is." The boy replied. "Shmee likes him too." He added, indicating the Teddy Bear.

"_You _were the one who saved him?" Johnny asked incredulously.

"What was I supposed to do?!" She suddenly lost it, screaming almost incoherently. "Leave that piece of shit to abduct the defenseless kid??!! And if you hurt him I'll kill you before you kill me!! Fuck you!!!"

"If Todd's right, I'm not killing you!" Johnny snapped. "Now shut up before you wake everyone else up."

Her first stupid thought was: _He's not going to kill me?_, but she wouldn't allow for relief to sweep over her yet.

"He's really nice." Todd repeated as Anna got as far away from Johnny as possible.

"At least to you." She muttered, glaring at Johnny. She _really_ wanted to leave and delude herself that all this was a horrible nightmare, but her concern for Todd's welfare made her stay. She didn't exactly know if she was really free either…"So you're not going to kill me?"

Johnny was silent for a few moments, his brow furrowed. Occasionally he looked towards the door, as if he were listening to someone. Todd waved at Anna like this was a normal meeting and Anna managed to smile to keep Todd calm while waiting for her verdict. Johnny then looked up, his features incredibly softened.

"If it weren't for Squee then you would've been dead." He stated. "But you had saved him—quite coincidentally—and was still concerned for his life in spite of your own…and you kept quiet while we met with scum…that is rare…" He made eye contact with her. "Well, I apologize for our little misadventure, and hopefully you'll never meet me again."

She was inclined to not believe him, since he was a good actor, but Todd knew—to an extent, maybe—of what he had been doing and, and still let him live. He even seemed to care for Todd, and that was enough proof—for now—to let her relax slightly and let some weight lift off her shoulders.

"So, uhm, thanks?" She replied tentatively, looking from Todd to Johnny. She didn't know what to do now. Should she leave? How much influence did this homicidal maniac have over this little boy? And what about—

"Oh, and don't worry about me stalking and/or killing you if you decide to call the cops." Johnny said, answering her question. "Happens when there are witnesses, and as you can see I'm still here."

"So basically, I can call the cops on you and it wouldn't matter?"

"Unfortunately."

"But what if you _are_ caught?" She asked apprehensively. "You still coming after me?"

Todd looked horrorified. "Please don't put him in jail." He said, his teddy bear trembling. "He's nice, honest." He looked at Johnny, who shook his head. "But—"

"Squee, it's alright if she does. She just wants to make sure I don't harm you or other people." He said, patting Todd's head. "She'll still be a nice lady."

The situation was too real for it to be a dream, so maybe she was hallucinating that this psychotic killer transitioned into being a paternal figure for this boy; not that she wasn't glad for the change. She was struck of how similar this new Johnny looked compared to the cautious, timid Todd. The previous Johnny represented death; now he represented protection. She wasn't sure how to handle the scene. And he had called her a nice lady? _Well, least his opinion of me changed enough to let me live…I hope._

"I know." Todd sniffed, giving her a smile.

"Uhm, why do you call him 'Squee'?" She asked Johnny, who looked at her and grinned.

"First sound he made when I asked his name." He replied happily. "Him and Shmee. I was in his bathroom crashing around for some bactine and he came in and saw me. Just endearing, standing there terrified."

"I wouldn't find that endearing." She replied, glancing at Todd.

"Pitying kind." Johnny said to Todd, who looked at him attentively. "A motherly type, perhaps. Sounds more caring than yours."

"Mommy loves me." Todd said defensively. "She just…sometimes is asleep…most of the time…"

"His dad isn't much better." Johnny muttered. "Doesn't care a whole lot about him."

Anna remembered the almost-disappointed look Todd's father had when he came to pick up his son, and a wave of familiar anger plugged her brain. "Even after…?"

"No." Johnny shook his head. "From what I saw, them coming home today was ordinary. No fuss over him. _I_ was more concerned than his parents. Which reminds me;" he leaned forward, "before you leave, I have a request to as of you."

Her stomach lurched and she cocked her eyebrow. "Not much in a position to ask, but what?

"The man." Johnny said. His eyes were burning, and she knew that his hate for the person in question matched hers. "What was his name?"

She held eye contact, but before she answered, she hesitated. She had a pretty good idea of what Johnny wanted to do with the name. Did that man deserve to die? True, he was a pedophile, but shouldn't get a second chance? He deserved jail—and castration. She thought when she glanced at Todd—that much he did deserve, but not death. He deserved something more.

"Why?" She asked. She knew that he could find out, but she was still thinking of whether she could be responsible for someone's death.

Johnny's eyes had become slits. "So I could make sure he gets life in prison. I will walk to that courthouse and expose myself, to make sure that sonovabitch stays there. And I want to know who he is."

"You're not going to find a kill him?" She asked cautiously.

"He's in jail with guards everywhere." Johnny said dismissively. "What do you think?"

Anna hesitated, then "Alright, his name is Bob Morton. And you don't have to do anything to ensure that he gets life in prison. I will see to it."

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The time period that I'm writing this is a little after Nny and Squee met, and currently Johnny is realizing that he cannot be caught, though he took precaution when choosing Anna, which is why he was acting the way he is, and no, this isn't some weird way to get a potential romance between Anna and Nny (Yay for run-on sentences). I just hope it's not OOC very much...

Next Chapter is LLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGG......Hope you enjoyed!!


	3. Chapter 3

If anyone knows about legal matters--or notice something wrong via legal proceedings in this chapter--let me know so I can edit it. Thanks!!!

Also, if you notice something strange as you're reading this, just read bottom.

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Anna slammed the door behind her, hurling her keys against the wall. She grabbed the remote, from the couch and turned the TV on, changing the channel for the first time, willingly, to a news station. A Barbie monotonelessly greeted her with a brief outline of the day's headlines.

"First up, new updates on the war." Barbie crooned as Anna took off her mail carrier and jacket, tersely hanging them up in the closet. "Twenty US soldiers and Iraqi police killed today in a suicide bombing in a Baghdad marketplace. Fifteen civilians have also perished, with a total of sixty civilians wounded. Iraqi police and the US Soldiers and Marines were handling a domestic dispute when a van had—"

Anna swallowed, momentarily forgetting her anger. Alex almost had to switched over to Baghdad, and if her brother had died…

"In local news, police are baffled at the recent murder of an inmate in LA Correction Center.

Anna quickly jumped on the couch, her body bent forward. _So it was true._

"Police found the victim's body in his cell early this morning. The scene was described as 'grotesque' by LA count Sheriff Jorge Ramirez, who had arrived to investigate the situation, where suicide was out ruled. Police are still gathering information at this time, revealing that the victim, Bob Morton, was arrested for double attempted kidnapping. There are no suspects at this time, and police encourage anyone who has any information to come forward."

_Yeah, I do_. Anna thought savagely as she changed the channel, the TV now portraying a blonde ninja character shouting "Believe it!" instead of a telephone hotline number. She set the remote down and walked into the kitchen, turning on the light.

She had killed a man. Indirectly, but it was still murder. She banged around the kitchen, seemingly forgetting where her silverware was. _It's my fault he's dead._ She thought bitterly. _I told that…__thing__…his name. True, he could have found out anyway, but since I provided the name, I am in some way responsible._

"Long time no see." Said a voice that was too close to her ear for her liking.

Anna took the gun that she hid under the silverware holders and whipped around, the gun aiming for the person's head. It took her several seconds to realize that he was crouched on the island behind her. "What are you doing here? How'd you get in?"

Johnny didn't seem to care that the gun's barrel was pointed at his forehead or how strange he looked half kneeling on her island. In better light, she could see his eyes were dark brown, not black. "Doesn't occur to you that it might seem strange to hide a gun underneath your silverware?" He asked mildly.

"It's not like you think kidnapping, murder, and breaking and entering is a crime—or the fact that you're in my kitchen with a gun at your head disconcerting." She retorted. "Why did you kill Morton? You said you wouldn't kill him."

"I don't recall." Johnny said mockingly pensive. "Who says it was me anyway?"

"You wanted him to remain in jail." She snapped. "For the rest of his life to live in it."

"And so he did." Johnny replied, sliding off the island (Anna still pointing the gun at him). "He lived his life to the end in a prison."

"You _shortened_ it!"

"Hey, it's not my fault you blindly assumed that I was going to allow him to live." Johnny said, a touch of vexation in his voice. "If it makes you feel better, he's still living there: they're going to bury him in the prison's graveyard. You got any food?"

"He didn't need to die—put that down." Anna seethed as Johnny picked an apple from her fruit bowl. "He could have changed in prison and personally—"

"One of those second-chance people?" Johnny interrupted, taking a bite out of the apple. "I see…well, let me ask you something."

"What." She said through her teeth, steadying her gun.

"How well did you know Bob Morton?" He seemed genuinely interested.

"Besides his physical age, he's a repeat offender, and was willing to shut me up to ensure that he was covered kidnapping a kid."

"A repeat offender of what?"

She paused. "Kidnapping and/or child abduction. Perhaps child…"She couldn't say it.

"He's a pedophile?" Johnny suggested. Anna nodded.

"So you don't know." Johnny said. "By the way, could you lower the gun? I know you're not going to kill me, but I'm not sure about a gunshot wound, and this isn't the best time for me to get injured. I'm not going to hurt you." He added when she didn't move, "But it is a bit distracting with that thing in my face."

Slowly and reluctantly, Anna lowered the gun, not exactly believing herself to trust this guy. "Wait, what about killing me?" She raised the gun again, remembering how he tricked her.

Johnny sighed. "I won't kill or hurt you."

"Or anything in my apartment or my neighbors?"

"Not a scratch."

"Or bruise or scrape of any other wound?"

"When I say I won't kill or hurt you, I actually mean it." Johnny said calmly. "I'm not in a bad mood like yesterday, and since you saved Todd, you're basically guaranteed that you don't die by my hands or that I'll influence it in any way. Besides, I had ample time to kill you already if I wanted to, and you're still alive."

Again, very slowly, she let her arms drop, watching him closely and poised to re-aim and shoot if he even twitched the wrong way.

"Thank you." He said once the gun was lowered. "Anyway, back to what I was saying—may I?" He gestured to the island behind him, to which Anna dourly nodded. He hoisted himself backward and sat on the island. "Mr. Bob Morton, forty-six years. He's divorced with two girls left behind." He grinned, the psycho smile back on his face. "Somewhere around his life he took a liking for little boys. Maybe that's why his wife divorced him…anyway, shortly after his divorce, he was caught with several boys in his basement."

"What?!" Anna exclaimed. "What was he doing?! How do you know this?" She asked, folding her arms loosely.

"I'll get to that, and what do you think?" Johnny shrugged. "Sexual and physical abuse."

Her fists were starting to clench. "And? He went to jail, right?"

"Yep. But," he leaned forward, "he didn't serve out his forty year term. He only served ten."

Anna bit her lip. "Why?"

"He has friends." He muttered. "He may not look like the type, but he has them. The influential kind, like police, lawyers, judges, and even some politicians in the city; seems that before the divorce he was a lawyer himself. Combining his knowledge and his associates, he was able to minimize his sentence to twenty, then to fifteen. At his parole hearing two years ago he was found to have 'changed' and was released."

Anna scoffed. "That's utter bullshit."

"And that's why I killed him." Johnny said simply. "He would've gotten off easy; he can't be convicted of the same crime, and thought he had ill intentions, all he did was threaten you and retaliate to you and Todd's attacks."

"It was self defense for us." Anna growled, though she knew that Morton probably would have convinced his lawyers enough to press that charge.

"Which can be easily twisted." Johnny pointed out, starting to sound annoyed. "Like I said, all he did was talk. Your 'self defense' was an attack—since you threw the first punch, literally—and his attack was self-defense. And he _was_ going to accuse you since you handed him a broken nose and a concussion."

"What?! Oh great. Again, how do you know this?" She eyed him. "Did you ask him or something before you killed him?"

"Overheard him." Johnny stated. "I went to the prison he was being held at after you left three nights ago."

"How in the world did you get in? More importantly, how come you haven't been caught? Prison is heavily guarded." She said coldly.

"Yet people have managed to escape, and since I think I can escape from everything, this was no exception." Johnny said, then perked up. "You wanna hear the whole story? It's pretty good—I won't be able to fully answer your questions—but I guess you would want to know how little Todd's would-be-innocence-killer died."

Anna gawked at him for several seconds, then groaned. "Sure, alright." She answered, wearily unfolding her arms and pulled herself backward on to the counter behind her across from Johnny, keeping eye contact. "How did Mr. Morton meet his demise?"

"Once upon a time," Johnny began in mock story-teller mode, "two days after a young woman left to return home after a delightful journey—" Anna snorted, "and a troubled young man sent a little boy back home, the troubled young man headed for Main Street around the evening. He took his cell phone and called for a cab, and whistled at the deserted street corner as he felt the cool air against his face as he waited. The cab arrived, the driver a thirty year old man who appeared to be _very_ tired, and the troubled young man—we shall call him 'Nny'—pulled himself in.

"Nny and the cab driver did not talk much, other than Nny asking to be chauffeured to the library. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, but rather a sleepy one. The nice cab driver unquestioningly dropped Nny off at the main Library, which is conveniently several miles away from the state penititionary." He grinned. "So Nny trecks over to the lovely little prison, in which visiting hours are sill available, and Nny has a friend in the prison named Manson—no, not Charles or Marilyn, though Manson's rather fond of both—to visit. Once gaining entry into the prison, Nny took a trip down a very well lit hallway crowded by people talking on payphones, and whom should Nny come across? With a watchful guard to boot, the vile Morton, who fits the description of a greasy, fat man with not a hair on his head, a white band across the bridge of his nose. As Nny drew nearer, he heard Morton give his name, demanding for a 'Mr. Lee'.

" 'Lee? Yah, it's Bob Morton.' The fat man said." Johnny used a gruff southern voice that was a good imitation of Morton's. " "Yeah, I'm back. Oh, nuthin', just talkin' to some kid when some bitch comes up an' accuses me of tryin' to abduct the kid and then attacks me.' He paused. 'No, the police believed the little whore. Why do yah think I'm in here? Attempted kidnapping, that's what they said.'

"At this point, Nny was passing Morton, when the payphone next to the evil lard was suddenly open. Nny slipped in beside Morton, picked up the receiver and pretended to insert quarters.

" 'No.' Morton said, not even noticing the rather noticeable Nny as the troubled young man put on a face of boredom. 'That's what I'm bein' charged for. But _I_ want to press charges. I just got back from the hospital. The bitch gave me a concussion and broke my nose.' Morton listened to the end of the receiver, then looked embarrassed. 'It's not funny. That's very unprofessional of you, Lee.' He paused again. 'Er, yeah, I did fight back—but it was self-defense. No—stop laughin'. Just cuz we're friends…no, this chick could kick your black belt ass…all I did was grab her and nudge the kid aside…yeah, she goaded the kid on….oh shut it. Don't you be tellin' _me_ that was unprofessional…' He sighed. 'The kid was a boy…no, just talkin' to him…cuz he looked lost an' I wanted to help him out…I don't know their names, but they'll _have_ to give them to me…and what about bail? You know I have no money….tomorrow? Thanks Lee. I owe ya.' Morton paused for several moments, before hanging up the receiver, and was escorted down the hall to the cells."

Johnny continued to grin. "To keep up the act of visiting, Manson was brought to the visiting room—telephones and glass barriers of course—and they had a nice little chat. Manson knew a lot of information on Morton, being a friend of one of Morton's former cellmates, and gleaned what Nny was going to be doing there. Manson told Nny which section that Morton would most likely be in, before Nny left the visiting center.

"All Nny did was walk toward the section—where bail prisoners waited in cells—and Nny hid in the janitor's closet for several hours, way past the time when the lights were shut off. Nny emerged from the closet once he heard the loud snoring of the security guard across the hallway. Nny picked the lock to the security room—cell locks were more complicated, and Nny, while doubting he would be captured, would prefer that he had as much time as possible for his improv—and gained access of the room where the guard slept in a spinny-chair. He checked the control panel for cameras in the prisoner's hallway, and pressed the button that would cease recording of the hallway. Nny also found an assortment of keys on the wall, so he took them and quietly exited the room.

"Adjacent to the room was the dark hallway of cells, with most of the cellmates asleep or dozing. Nny blended into the shadows quite easily, taking care not to get too close to the metal bars on either side. The people inside varied from gangsters to failed-robbers to passed out teenagers, but no fat pedophiles. The hallway was long, but as Nny neared the end of the hallway with Morton yet to appear, he began to believe that he was in a different section of the prison. However, at the very end of the hallway was one more lonely cell." Johnny smirked. "Guess who the enormous tub of molestation that slept on the one bed was? None other than his truly. Nny looked carefully at the cell lock, determined the key shape, then jingled through the keys he held, quickly finding a match and unlocked the door. The door slid surprisingly quietly, and Nny stepped in, sliding it shut behind him.

"Morton started once the door clanged closed. 'Wha?' He mumbled as Nny put his finger to his lips.

" 'Sshh.' Nny said soothingly. 'I'm here to take you out.'

" 'But, ' Morton's judgment was slowed by waking up from his last happy dream. "I'm getting' outta here tomorrow…'

"Nny shrugged. 'Suit yourself. If you want to stay here, so be it.'

" 'Ok, fine.' Morton grunted, rolling off his cot. Nny became aware that this man ha the potential of being stronger than he even in a tired, slow state, and was glad that Nny had earned some trust from the fat man.

"Nny stepped to the side, motioning to the door. 'It's unlocked.' He said kindly.

"Morton stumbled past Nny, and gripped the bars vaguely, and tugged.

" 'Er, they ain't movin'. ' Morton murmured tiredly. 'Yah wanna help?' He asked, looking over his shoulder."

Johnny then changed his Point of View during his Storytelling.

"Morton then suddenly feel a curious sensation drown him into a dark abyss. He became slightly confused, which took him several minutes to recognize. He tried to lift his hand to see _how_ dark it was, but he couldn't pick up his hand. He tried again. No hand. Soon, he realized that the pain of his wrist signaled that he was somehow restrained. Panicking, he screamed, and the instant he tried to open his mouth he felt a band across his lips, and the voice that left his throat came as a tiny 'mmph!'

" 'So, awake and alert, are we?' Morton heard a tenor's voice some distance away. 'That's good.'

" 'Mmpph! Mmpphh!' Morton squealed. Who was this man?

"He heard the man laugh. 'You're pretty funny, Bob Morton.' The man said. Morton heard a chair being scraped across the floor towards him, and a dull thud was heard. 'My name is Johnny, no last name needed. I would let you introduce yourself properly, without all the bindings and all, but that means I would have to untie all that, and sorry to say, I'm lazy.'

"Morton struggled against the chords. Where did he get the ropes? Morton didn't notice the young man bring anything in except keys into the cell, assuming that was the same person…

" 'Bed sheets.' Johnny said, answering Morton's question. Morton felt a tap on the binding on his wrist. "Pillow cover. Luckily, you inmates are not given satin sheets that are rather slippery. Slippery, interesting word, isn't? Anyway, where was I…?'

"Morton continued to struggle. He would be damned if he could not free himself from bed sheets.

" 'So, Morton, we're going to have a little chat.' The young man said, a touch of madness in his voice, and Morton felt a presence closer to him, particularly towards his forehead. 'I'm going to take the gag off, because a chat with myself—though frequent—is right now close to pointless. However, if you are too loud or scream, or call attention to yourself,' Morton felt a sharp point on his temple, 'I'll drill this nail into your fuckin' brain, understand me?"

"Morton swallowed, his toes curled. He nodded delicately, hoping his sweat would not make the nail slip.

" 'Good.' The young man said, and Morton felt something sticky being ripped off his lower face, and gasped in pain. 'Oh, did that hurt? I'm sorry…'

"Morton forced his anger and fear down. 'What about my blindfold?' He asked softly.

"The young man laughed. 'Be glad you have eyes. Now,' Morton felt the young man lean forward, 'you tell me why you tried to abduct the little boy and what would you have done with him.'

" 'Don't know what yehr talkin' about.' Morton said instantly. 'Though I _was_ tryin to help some kid who was lost, before some bitch started sayin' I was some pervert and attacked me. All I did was act in protection.'

" 'And the fact that you were already charged as a child molester concerns nothing?' The young man asked silently.

" 'I've changed my ways.' Morton said in a solemn tone. 'After the things I've done, I swore to never hurt another child again.'

"There was a pause, and Morton began to feel more relaxed, releasing the tension in his shoulders, since he used his tone that he employed during his lawyer days. After several minutes, the young man spoke.

" 'The boy and the woman told me a much different story…now why would they?' The troubled young man sounded emotionless.

"Morton unwillingly—and probably didn't know that he—went pale. 'You've met them?' He should've know; the only way this man would ask about the brat because he _knew_ him. Why was his judgment so impaired now? Fear, that was it.

" 'I'm a guardian, of sorts, to the boy, and I had the pleasure by a twist of fate of meeting the woman two days ago.' The young man said, sounding disturbingly happy. 'Their stories matched each others, but you are singing another song.'

" 'You don't believe me?' Morton didn't seem to notice that his voice was wet in fear. He took a fortifying breath to alleviate the oncoming terror when he felt the sharp object press threateningly against his temple, and he unwillingly gave a tiny flinch.

" 'Talk.' The young man's voice was cold and ominous. Morton could feel the young man's eyes on him, as though the young man was drilling his stare into Morton's mind.

" 'Are you going to kill me?' Morton whispered.

" 'Ask me another question, _and I will._ It sickens me here, so the longer I have to be here, the shorter your life. Explain away.'

"Despite the warning, it was a while before Morton took a long, shuddering breath and began to talk in a hushed, terrified breath."

Johnny paused, his eyes having traveled to the floor during his third person narrative and switching point of views, and his eyes made their way up, taking in Anna's leaning body to her open jaws before stopping at her wide, incredulous eyes.

"He was going to have some, fun, if you will, with Squee." Johnny said harshly. His disgust was almost tangible. "And then kill him, to hide the evidence. When you showed up, he was just going to get rid of you in the same fashion—drowning—but hey, don't worry, it didn't sound like he liked women much." He added with a bitter laugh.

"Then what happened?" Anna asked, her voice slightly shaking from shock…or perhaps anger….or fear, she didn't know.

"Well wait. First," Johnny slipped off the island and approached, peering at her in mock curiosity to her face, "you tell me what you think of this man's reply to my question. Still think he deserves a second chance? Surely you don't. After all, he was going to harm little Todd and kill both of you.

"To be quite honest," Anna said softly. "I don't know."

Johnny sneered. "You're unbelievable. God I _hate_ people like you—"

"I wouldn't expect you to understand with your death obsessed mind much," Anna snapped, "but don't you think my response is much better than 'Oh, he's just misguided. I'm sure he wouldn't _really_ do that to Todd and I. Of _course_ he still deserves a chance.' No you asshole, I'm thinking that he deserves to rot and be some jail mate's whore while he gets life in prison with those ridiculous One-hundred-and-fifty-year sentences without parole or bail and be stuck in a prison in the middle of a desert so that if he escapes he'll die of heat exhaustion—which is not pretty—and his body becoming an 'all-you-can-eat buffet' for vultures. He deserves that. But an instant killing? C'mon, I thought you'd had the decency to let that happen."

Johnny just stared at her. "Wow, I didn't know I made such an impression on you. Just one problem—that I already covered several times—with your rant."

"Just because he has good lawyers doesn't mean _I_ can't get any." Anna retorted. "I have 'special connections' as well. And would any jury choose some gross 'ex'-pedophile with an extensive criminal record over a timid yet sweet little boy and a hard working college student? That'd be interesting."

"You underestimate him." Johnny said, frustration in his voice. "All with your goddamned bullshit of letting people live."

"In misery!" Anna snapped. "Did I not just say I wanted him to suffer--"

"But to still live." Johnny interrupted with vehemence.

"Death is not the worst—"

"To most people, it is!" Johnny had grabbed Anna's shirt and yanked her forward. "When they're about to die, people plead and scream to live! They talk about all this shit of how their life is a living hell and want it to end—some people DO end up killing themselves, but if all the people who cry that they want to die followed through with it, there'll be very few people—if any—that would still be on this fucking planet!! They might 'welcome' it, by emerging themselves in that mentality, or simulate it, but cutting or slashing themselves, but if they had the true desire of death, of nothing, they would be dead! The only desire that they have is to escape their problems, and the people who commit suicide do so because they see THAT as their escape! People never truly desire death; they fear it too much! Fear of ceasing to exist or fear of where they'll end up is what stops the gun from being place on the skull or the razor to the skin. Fear is the paralyzing agent that forces one to stop and think of what they are doing, that they do not, as the deluded themselves into thinking, that they want death. Why do people keep living in misery, to keep living in shit? Because there's hope. No matter how small, how tiny, that hope makes them live on, to continue through life and it's horrors and heartbreaks and disillusionments. They will live to get it, and once they achieve whatever hope they have, if they do, by that time they will have something else to hang onto. That is why I killed him. Because that piece of shit did not deserve, even in his miserable future to come, to have that hope as he lived."

Anna stared at him, her hands tightly around his wrists, slowly digesting it in. Johnny paused, looking down at her hands on his wrists, then shook her off.

"I don't' like being touched." He muttered, back away towards the island.

"Then why did you three days ago?" She responded irritably. She wasn't thrilled that she didn't react fast enough to grab her gun when he grabbed her, but it didn't look like he was going to approach her again.

"When it suits my purposes, I will force myself to." He said darkly, his eyes on her fridge. "Do you have anymore food?"

"Why should I feed you?" She said, vexed.

He grinned manically. _Perhaps he's bipolar._ She thought as she reluctantly went for the fridge._ Of course, that's the 'in-vogue' diagnoses, which slightly diminishes the severity of the people who really do have bipolar disorder, but he was a good example…_"What do you want?" She asked.

"Do you have fruty pops?"

She eyed him over the lower half of the door. "And I expected blood."

"Do I look like a vampire to you?" He hopped on the island again. "I'm not white if you can't tell. _You_ look more like a vampire than I do."

"Yes, but you need blood." She shuddered. It's one thing to read stories and daydream about vampires and their love for blood, and another to hear a real situation about blood being drained from somebody's body. "And no, I do not own any fruty pops."

"What?! How could you not?!" He looked so outraged that Anna almost burst out laughing at him. "Then we need to go buy some!"

"No." Anna made no movement towards the door. "I'm not being seen with you. The cops are looking for you, and I have half a mind to turn you in."

"How many times do I have to tell you that I can not be caught." Johnny said, sounding a little disappointed at her lack of enthusiasm for fruty pops. "I can leave my bloody—literally, haha—fingerprints all over the 'crime scene', and not be found or arrested. You know all those 'mysterious' mass killings? Me. All me. Except that girl that was raped, I wouldn't do that, and some other killings that have been starting to link to me I didn't do, but anyway, there can be—and has been—loads of people who saw me commit the crime and still I am here! Whether it's God or the Devil, I cannot be touched."

Anna still really had no idea why she was still standing and hosting a complete psycho in her apartment, other than her growing interest of him…since she was somewhat immune to his killings, she could fulfill asking questions and getting answers. "So you believe in religion? You surprise me; I mistook you as an atheist or agnostic."

"Not a Satanist?" Nny asked curiously. "Most of my vict—I mean, _guests_—scream questions about my purpose that involve being a crazed Satanist."

"Are you?" She asked, remembering that he mentioned 'needing' to offer blood to his wall to keep 'something' at bay.

"No." As if he had read her mind, he added, "I don't know what's behind my wall; I have never seen it. And before you think it's my imagination, my 'guests' have complained about it."

"They have seen it?" Anna didn't like how she was becoming intrigued.

Johnny shook his head. "The people who are in the lower levels hear rattling and shaking when the blood is dry on the wall, and not a sound when it's wet. I have witnessed it beginning to crack."

"And how do you know it wants blood?"

"I found the wall covered in blood when I moved in."

So the person before him was killing to keep blood on the wall; granted that Nny's not making it up. "And that's when you started killing?"

Nny made a move to answer, then hesitated. "I don't know." He said slowly. "I don't remember. Maybe that's why, and perhaps not."

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If you're wondering about Nny's rant about death, and then wondering how this fits his character of wanting to commit suicide sometimes, that is explained in later chapters.

No idea when the next one is coming out...I'm on a JTHM and IZ craze at the moment, so you never know.

Choppy as crap. Hope it was entertaining! *needs to stop being so worried*


	4. Chapter 4

Holy crap an update!!! I do not own JTHM; Jhonen Vasquez does.

* * *

Anna tapped her pen on her notebook, balancing her chair on its back legs. The Professor was droning about neurons and dendrites and Soma and blah blah blah, pointing lazily to the PowerPoint presentation. _The teacher really makes a difference._ She thought, shifting her weight to steady the chair. In High School, when her Biology teacher covered the brain, he had made it interesting, bringing in actual animal brains and have them apply their knowledge to it, instead of lecturing to the class in a monotone voice. However, the Professor's lack of attention made it easy for students in the 50-person lecture hall to talk quietly amongst themselves (this was Anna's "Do-homework-for-other-classes" time period).

Behind her, two students were partaking in the usual buzz of whispering. Anna would've ignored them, taking a moment to set her chair down to copy the definitions of the Amygdala and the Hippocampus, but their conversation had caught her attention the moment class had begun.

"…they have yet to catch the person." Anna was able to hear the brunette whisper to her partner when Anna leaned the chair back again.

" Hey it's been two weeks, and two prisoners gave the same description of the killer." The male voice was a tall man with dreadlocks, if she remembered correctly.

"So why are the police having trouble finding him? He's a psycho-freak; did you hear about the blood covering the cell?"

"There are a lot of freaks in the city. Besides, he killed a pedophile; we need less of those anyway."

"But who appointed him to be executioner?"

"He did obviously."

"Doesn't make it right."

The two students started brushing over information that Anna already knew, such as no camera footage of the killing, also mentioning that the Parent so the would-be molested kid were cleared, since both of their alibis checked out. What information that the two behind her didn't know was that Anna herself—much to her irritation, but saw it coming—was brought in by a reluctant Reilly for questioning about where she was that night. There was footage of her at her favorite diner she went to that night after her little adventure that was at the same estimated time of the murder, which supported her alibi of her being in her getting a midnight snack on the other side of town (trying to convince herself that her little midnight walk was a hallucination). Reilly had looked very apologetic afterward.

"Still not fond of the court?" He had asked in an attempt to be good-natured as he walked her to her car outside the police station.

"No, it's understandable." She had replied. After all, she knew the killer and wasn't thinking of turning him in. Yet, anyway. "Thank you for looking after me."

"Well, you protected that kid; means that there are still decent people, right?" He said encouragingly as they reached her car. He seemed distracted, as if he were preoccupied.

"It's nice that I have an officer on my side, then." She had smiled, unlocking the car. She was starting to feel guilty about not giving him information…"Thank you very much."

"No problem," he had said, returning the smile as she sat into her car. "It's been a pleasant surprise meeting you again."

Why did he seem distracted? "Me too," She had answered sincerely, hesitating when she saw him shift his weight, running a hand through his black hair. She waited, feeling a little nervous; why would a policeman be acting strange if there weren't other suspicions going around in his head?

"Would you…" He had paused, shuffling his feet like a schoolboy.

She could have laughed. _Ahhh, so THAT'S it. _She had lifted an eyebrow at him. "Yyyyyeeeeessss????"

He had pondered, his brow forwarded, then glanced at her. "Er, never mind." He had said, his neck and cheeks slightly pink. "Be safe, alright?"

She had chuckled. "You know my number." She had grinned, shutting the door.

Back in the classroom, Anna smiled as she set the chair back down. It had been several days and no call, but she had expected that; Reilly was part of several investigations, including the one she was semi-involved in and a recent Taco Hell incident (which gave her a good excuse to dislike the chain even more).

She fingered the note in her pocket; Johnny had given her Todd's—or "Squee's"—number last time that they interacted (which was two weeks ago in her kitchen, when he decided to leave because he was more interested in securing Fruty Pops than conversing to her about his wall—which she didn't mind at all). If he had killed anyone since their meeting, she didn't know; minus the Taco Hell incident (which she pushed out of her mind frequently), the amount of people being murdered in the city wasn't irregular, unless Johnny contributed consistently to the usual number.

It was strange, she had to admit when the Professor finally dismissed the class, knowing a serial killer and not doing anything about it…._to be honest, I'm a little afraid._ She thought wearily as she stood up and gathered her books. After her near-brush of death, she wasn't very eager to experience it again. Moreover, what if he went after her family? But, for some odd reason, she at the same time felt…safe with him…perhaps not _with_, but _from_. Was it because he trusted her with Todd? _And besides,_ she thought as she walked to the courtyard to meet with her friends to discuss their Saturday night,_ if Nny only killed people like Morton, then it's not too bad; might help out the world._

_Self justification…_her Psychology class sounded out to her as she joined the mass of students in the hall, celebrating the last class of Friday. _And now some time for denial and diversion._

_----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

With a weary glance to the house across the street—very quiet, no screaming—she knocked on the door to be greeted by a very tall couple, a blonde woman and a dark haired man. The man squinted at her, while the woman large eyes were slightly glazed.

"And you are?" The man asked, looking at her up and down like she was a stray dog. Johnny said that they were negligent, but to not even recognize someone who helped out their son?

"I'm Anna-Marie Beauclair," Anna said. After still getting blank looks, "the baby-sitter."

"Oh!" Todd's mom exclaimed as the Todd's father looked at his wife with an expression that revealed he hadn't been informed of the situation. "Dear, this is a baby sitter for Todd while we go out."

"We're going out?"

"Of course we are. WHAT'S-YOUR-NAME! YOUR CARETAKER IS HERE!" Mrs. Casil yelled up the stairs before turning back to Anna. "Thank you for agreeing to baby sit our little Tom." Actually, since Johnny had given her Todd's number, two days ago Anna had basically called to see how Todd was doing, when somehow Mrs. Casil had misidentified her as a baby-sitter looking for a job. Since she would get money (tuition! Woo hoo!) and check on Todd, she had played along.

"So, what are the rates these days?" Mr. Casil had accepted leaving the house quickly. "$20 a week?"

Anna did a double take. "Excuse me?"

"Oh no silly, it's just the _night_. He's just teasing." Mrs. Casil explained to her. "So, we will be back around 5…"

Anna did a double take. "5am?"

"Why yes! It's a Friday night after all!" Mrs. Casil giggled. Past her, Anna could see Todd coming down the stairs, still holding on to Shmee. He waved, and Anna flashed him a smile before returning her attention to Mrs. Casil. "Honey, we can do anything! "

"We could perhaps have a nice dinner." Mr. Casil suggested.

"Go to a movie," Mrs. Casil added.

"Perhaps stop by the new dance club,"

"Or the strip club,"

"Then visit the café',"

"Or get a hotel room—"

"Mr. and Mrs. Casil," Anna interrupted, alarmed, her eyes darting between them and Todd, who had reached the bottom of the stairs. "Maybe you shouldn't discuss this in front of your son…"

"Who? He still lives here?" Mrs. Casil's eyes were very wide.

"Todd." Mr. Casil muttered.

"Mm?" She turned around and spotted Todd. "Oh!! _Him_!"

"I have to apologize for this," Mr. Casil muttered before Anna could hide her incredulous expression. "My wife is rather forgetful; the medication is at fault."

_You mean the cocaine or whatever the hell she's on?_ Anna thought dubiously. _If she didn't know she had a son, why did she want a babysitter? _ "It's alright," she said politely. "Mrs. Casil, the previous arrangement was for 1am."

"Oh, party-pooper." Mrs. Casil pouted. "Alright, we'll come back by then."

"Please come in." Mr. Casil said, stepping aside.

After a tour of the house (which was very clean and spotless—even Todd's room) the Casil's gave her a list of what time he got ready for bed ("Make sure he brushes his toofies!!" Mrs. Casil giggled), what he could watch on TV, showed her the fridge, etc. Within the next five minutes, Todd and Anna were waving goodbye at the doorstep. Anna was reforming her opinion about the Casil's a little—perhaps Johnny misread the situation? He was nuts anyway—but was slightly marred when the Casil couple drove away like they were in a high-speed chase.

"Well Todd, what would you like to do?" Anna asked as they both went inside. She wanted to make him comfortable before she asked him if he was alright, in case it brought negative memories.

"I like to write, but I guess we can play a game." He said, pulling out CLUE from the closet (_Extra points for the parents, even having a game in the house)._

"That's a fun game!" She didn't have to fake enthusiasm. "Is Shmee going to play?"

Todd looked happy that she included to Shmee, and a smile lit his face. He looked so adorable that for one ridiculous second, Anna wanted to scoop him in her arms and hug him tightly. After mentally shaking herself, she helped organize the board in the living room, a rather large room with a TV and a couch underneath a large, slightly open window, the curtains drawn back to let in light.

"Your parents seem pretty nice." _If rather forgetful. _Anna stated as they put the little props in the rooms.

"They're being nice so Daddy won't get fired." He said it as if it were nothing.

"Fired?" She repeated, matching his nonchalant tone.

"So they won't get reported to DSS."

_He knows of the Department of Social Services? At seven?_ From personal experience, she believed that Todd knew how serious his situation was. "Well…" She had to tread carefully. Even if parents were abusive, most kids would lie to protect their parents. "Are your parents sometimes mean to you?"

"Not really. They just kinda don't pay attention to me." He gathered the little player pieces. "They don't hit me or anything. Which color do you want?"

"Green." Anna said, and she took it when he handed it out to her. It was a bit of relief that he said that his parents didn't touch him, but she was sure to look for bruises anyway. _Why am I being nosy? _She thought as he took the red piece, giving a yellow piece to Shmee. It didn't help that she felt like she was being watched either.

In about one game, Todd and Anna forgot the serious mood and were laughing and having fun. Shmee 'won' the first game, and Anna just missed the murder weapon in the second. An hour and a half later, they had the TV on as background, munching on pizza while they rolled the dice and giggled.

"I'm going to make an guess!" Todd called, putting down his pencil and pad. "It was Scarlet, in kitchen, with the knife!"

Anna didn't have any of those, so of course Todd would know if Shmee would have those. "I dunno, let's have Shmee check." She took the cards from the envelope, careful not to look at the back, and showed them to Shmee, Todd glancing at them.

"Shmee says I won!!" Todd said gleefully, and she looked at the cards. Sure enough, Ms. Scarlet had murdered someone in the kitchen with a knife. Anna got the image of Mrs. Lovette dancing with Mr. Sweeney, before grinning and shaking her head. "I guess you did, Mr. Todd."

"Again?" Todd begged as we redistributed the cards.

She chuckled. "One more time, then we have to get dessert."

"Yay!!!" Squee began to shuffle the cards.

She leaned back, watching him interacting with Shmee as he gave him cards. Todd looked really happy with just someone paying attention to him (_nice attention,_ she reminded herself). She hadn't had an opportunity to ask Todd how he was doing yet, but it was getting—

"Did you hear that?" She turned my head to the hallway.

"No." Todd said, handing her her cards. "What was it?"

"Eh…nothing." She wasn't trying to scare him. _You're just being paranoid. _

Throughout the game, Anna began to feel like she _was_ being watched. She tried to concentrate on the game, but it was getting hard. _Probably high EMFs. _She thought.

"I'm going to make a guess." She said, pushing the feeling away. She had a good inkling that Mr. White had strangled the victim with a rope in the ballroom. "I accuse—"

"Mr. White. The Rope. The Ballroom."

Anna jumped at the low hiss of a voice, and almost screamed when she turned to the source: the open window, where the setting sun made the stark face that was staring at them a white distortion.

"Hey Nny." Todd called, taking the envelope casually and looking at the cards.

"How long have you been there?" I had to breathe deeply to regain composure. Living with a younger brother made me immune to pranks, but not when the pranker actually kills people as a hobby.

"Since the parents left." Johnny said, straightening. "Can you let me in?"

Her first reaction was "No", but if he was going to kill anyone, he would've done it already. Instead, as she opened the door, she asked: "Why?"

"Because it's the polite thing to do." He said simply (_he's calm today_). "It's either this or going through a tunnel to the basement anyway.

"Hey, you're right!" Todd called. "Mr. White did have a rope in the ballroom!"

_Cheater. Johnny saw my notes._ "You mean you have a tunnel that leads to the basement?" She asked Johnny lowly.

"Yep." He said proudly.

"So what are you here for, Nny?" Todd asked, taking Shmee into his lap.

Johnny grinned. "I'm here to play a game."

* * *

I wrote this draft three times before coming up with this, and still not a lot of stuff going on. Oh well. I updated.

Anna goes to the University of California, Los Angeles. I would love to go there for Graduate School (if I'm not in Japan).

References to Sweeney Todd and Ghost Hunters. I hate the movie SAW, so Johnny will clarify the last line next chapter.


End file.
